The Land of Stories

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The Land of Stories Page 3

by Chris Colfer


  She hopped off and tried Mama Bear’s bed next. Just like the armchair, the bed was so soft that Goldilocks sank down and had trouble getting out of it.

  “This bed is much too lumpy,” Goldilocks said.

  All that was left in the bedroom was Baby Bear’s bed. She sat on it first to make sure it could hold her weight. When it seemed sturdy enough to lie on, Goldilocks crawled under the covers and got comfortable.

  “This bed is just right…” the little girl said, yawning. The very moment she closed her eyes, Goldilocks fell into a deep sleep.

  The family of bears soon returned home from their walk in the woods. The bears were cheerful until they saw that their door was wide open.

  “That’s funny. I don’t remember leaving the door open,” Mama Bear said.

  “We must have an intruder!” Papa Bear growled.

  The bears charged into the house to find the trespasser. They searched the kitchen first, but found nothing unusual beyond an empty bowl of porridge.

  “Someone ate my breakfast!” Baby Bear said.

  The three bears looked in the sitting room next, but all they found was the broken chair.

  “Someone broke my chair!” Baby Bear said with a sniffle.

  There was only one place left to look. Papa Bear led the way into the bedroom with his claws raised, not knowing who or what they’d find.

  “Someone’s sleeping in my bed!” Baby Bear cried. “And it’s a girl!”

  The bears were surprised that a little girl had caused such a mess. They gathered around the bed and stared down at the sleeping child. Feeling as if she were being watched, Goldilocks awoke to see the bears surrounding her. She let out a scream that was so high-pitched, the three bears covered their ears.

  Goldilocks ran from the bedroom, through the sitting room, past the kitchen, and out the door as fast as she could. The three bears chased the little girl into the woods until they were certain she would never come back to their tree house.

  The little girl had learned some valuable lessons the hard way. She never ate someone’s porridge, sat in someone’s chair, slept in someone’s bed, or entered someone’s house without permission ever again.

  The End

  JACK AND THE BEANSTALK

  ADAPTED FROM THE TRADITIONAL STORY

  Once upon a time, there was a poor widow who had a son named Jack. The widow was a good woman but had grown sad and gruff after a life of difficult times. Jack was a curious and daring boy. He always had his head in the clouds, daydreaming about a life full of excitement and adventure.

  They lived in a tiny cottage on a small farm that never grew any crops. The only thing they had to eat was milk from a cow they called Milky-white. One day the cow’s milk dried up, so Jack’s mother ordered him to take the cow into town and sell it.

  “Mother, we can’t sell Milky-white!” Jack said. “She’s like family to us!”

  “We won’t be a family if we starve to death,” his mother said. “Life is filled with hard choices, Jack. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like to survive, but in the end they only help us grow. Now take the cow into the village, sell her for a good price, and pick up a loaf of bread on your way home.”

  Jack did as he was told but with a heavy heart. He walked Milky-white through the woods toward the nearest town but stopped when they encountered an old man on the path.

  “Good afternoon, lad,” the man said. He was a wacky old geezer with a long beard and tattered clothes.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” Jack replied.

  “May I ask where you’re taking this fine specimen?” the old man asked.

  “I’m taking her into town to sell her,” Jack said.

  “My boy, it’s your lucky day!” the old man said. “I just happen to be in the market for a cow.”

  “You want to buy Milky-white?” Jack asked.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have a shilling to my name, but I’d be more than happy to make a trade for the beast,” the old man said.

  “I’m not sure my mother would approve of a trade,” Jack said. “She told me to sell the cow and then bring back a loaf of bread for supper.”

  “My boy, what I’m willing to trade you is worth more than all the bread in the kingdom!” the old man said.

  The tradesman had gotten Jack’s attention, but he still wasn’t sure his mother would approve.

  “What do you wish to trade?” Jack asked.

  The old man reached into his raggedy coat and pulled out a handful of beans.

  “Beans?” Jack asked. “But surely my cow is worth more than beans.”

  “These aren’t just any beans,” the old man said with a twinkle in his eye. “These are magic beans! Guaranteed to grant your heart’s greatest desire.”

  Jack’s eyes grew twice in size as he imagined the possibilities the beans might bring him.

  “Are you sure they’re magical?” Jack asked.

  “Cross my heart and hope to die!” the old man said. He held up his palm and then crossed his stomach.

  Jack swiped the beans out of the old man’s hands and handed over Milky-white’s reins. He was so excited, he ran straight home without saying good-bye to the tradesman.

  “Mother! Mother!” Jack cried when he arrived home. “I’ve traded Milky-white for magic beans! The man in the woods says they’ll grant my heart’s greatest desire!”

  He happily poured the beans into his mother’s open palm. She took one look at them and her face turned bright red.

  “Stupid boy!” his mother said. “You’ve been tricked! There’s nothing magic about these beans! We’re most certainly going to starve now!”

  The widow angrily tossed the beans out the window and burst into tears. She locked herself in her room and cried all night at her son’s foolishness. Jack went to bed mad with himself too. He couldn’t believe how easily he had been deceived. He was so hopeful for a better life, he had let his hope cloud his judgment.

  The following morning Jack awoke to a terrible screech. He hopped out of bed and found his mother in a panic outside.

  “Look, Jack!” she cried and pointed to the sky. “A beanstalk grew last night while we were sleeping!”

  Growing straight out of the ground was a massive beanstalk. It was so tall, it stretched into the sky and disappeared above the clouds.

  “The beans! They must have grown when you tossed them out the window,” Jack shouted triumphantly. “They were magic after all!”

  “Now help me gather some leaves, and I’ll cook us a nice beanstalk stew,” the widow said.

  Jack ignored his mother’s wishes and immediately started climbing the beanstalk.

  “Jack, get down!” the widow ordered. “You’re going to get hurt!”

  Still, Jack ignored her. He couldn’t help himself; this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. He had spent years hoping to find a little adventure, and an adventure had found him.

  The higher he climbed, the better the view became of the land around him. He climbed so far up the beanstalk that he could see the entire kingdom—and even the kingdoms beyond it. When he reached the clouds, he was so high up that his house was just a tiny spot below and he couldn’t hear his mother’s shouts imploring him to climb down. He stroked the clouds with his hand and was delighted to learn they were as soft and fluffy as he had always imagined.

  The beanstalk grew through the clouds, so Jack continued climbing. He wanted to know how high the beanstalk went. He surfaced above the clouds into what looked like another world entirely. A sea of fluffy white hills stretched into the horizon all around him.

  To Jack’s amazement, there was a paved road floating above the clouds. He hopped off the beanstalk and followed the road as it curved and wound across the cloudy abyss. As Jack traveled down the road, he heard a beautiful singing voice grow louder and louder. He had never encountered such a lovely sound and wanted to find its source.

  At the very end of the road, Jack found a massive castle. It was so
big that Jack was the size of a mouse in comparison. He figured it must be the home of a humongous creature, and since Jack had always been more curious than fearful, he snuck under the enormous wooden door to have a look inside.

  The castle was filled with the biggest objects Jack had ever seen. The furniture was so large, he could walk under the table and chairs without hitting his head. The fireplace was so big, his entire house could fit inside it.

  Everywhere he looked he saw piles of gold coins the size of dinner plates. Jack wasn’t a thief by any means, but since there was so much gold and he and his mother had so little, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to take some home. So he filled a large bag with as much gold as it could hold and threw it over his shoulder.

  Just as Jack was about to leave the castle, he heard the beautiful singing voice again. And Jack could have sworn he saw a golden woman standing on top of the enormous table. Once again, his curiosity got the best of him, and Jack went to take a closer look.

  He climbed up a chair leg, stood on the seat, and then pulled himself up onto the top of the table. It wasn’t a golden woman he saw, but a magic golden harp with arms and a face. She sang a song while the strings attached to her back magically played along.

  “Many years I’ve had to wait; my hero is rather late.

  I sing songs of affection, but receive no protection.

  Have my rescuers all died? Has anyone even tried?

  Rescue is such a burden, only one thing is certain:

  Princesses don’t benefit when their princes can’t commit.

  Some damsels stay in distress, due to lack of interest.”

  The harp gasped when she saw Jack walking toward her.

  “A person!” she said. “Oh, thank the heavens! At last, someone has come to rescue me from the giant!”

  “What giant?” Jack asked.

  “The giant that lives in this castle, of course,” the harp said. “He’s a horrible and cruel creature! He forces me to sing terrible songs for him every day! Please, you must take me with you!”

  Suddenly, thunderous footsteps came from above them that caused the whole castle to shake.

  “Oh no,” the harp said. “He’s awake! You must hide or he’ll eat you alive!”

  Jack scrambled down from the table and hid in the giant’s oven. A few moments later, a terrifying giant stomped down the gigantic staircase. He was so large, the enormous castle seemed too small for him.

  “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of a poor young man,” the giant growled. “Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!”

  The giant looked all over the castle for Jack. He searched every cupboard and every drawer, but it never crossed his mind to check the oven. After a while, the giant grew tired of searching, so he sat down at the table.

  “Sing me a song!” the giant demanded.

  The harp began a song Jack could tell she didn’t want to perform.

  “Pillage! Pillage! Pillage the village!

  Crush all the houses with your feet!

  Pillage! Pillage! Pillage the village!

  Terrorize the people and steal their meat!”

  As the harp sang, the giant’s eyelids fluttered shut. He rested his head on the table and fell asleep. His snores were like the sound of a hundred growling bears. Jack climbed out of the oven and headed for the door with his bag of gold coins.

  “Please don’t leave me!” the harp said desperately. “I couldn’t bear living in this castle for one more day!”

  Jack was hesitant to rescue the harp, but he knew it wouldn’t be very gentlemanlike to leave her there. He quietly climbed back up the leg of the chair and made his way onto the table.

  The air coming from the giant’s nostrils was so powerful that it almost knocked Jack off his feet. The giant’s eyes started to flutter open, so the harp continued singing to soothe him back to sleep.

  “Pillage! Pillage! Pillage the village!

  Stomp on the farms with your boots!

  Pillage! Pillage! Pillage the village!

  Eat all the horses and steal all the loot!”

  Jack scooped up the harp and carried her toward the edge of the table. They were right under the giant’s nose when he took a deep breath in his sleep. He caught a whiff of Jack, and his nose twitched until he awoke.

  “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of a POOR YOUNG MAN!” the giant roared.

  He roared again when he saw Jack attempting to rescue his harp. Jack leaped off the table with the harp in his arms, and they landed directly on the giant’s foot.

  “AAAAHHHH!” the giant yelled. He held his aching toes and hopped around the castle on one foot.

  Jack held the harp in one arm and grabbed the bag of coins with the other. He ran to the door as fast as his legs would carry him. He crawled under the door and dashed down the paved road to the beanstalk.

  Right when Jack made it back to the beanstalk, the giant emerged from the castle and ran down the path after him. Jack hurried down the beanstalk, but the giant followed, causing the beanstalk to sway among the clouds.

  On the ground below, Jack’s mother heard the commotion and ran out of the cottage to see what was happening. She was so frightened to see the giant chasing her son that it took her a couple of moments to find her voice.

  “Jack! What have you gotten yourself into?” she yelled up at her son.

  “Mother, get me the axe! I need to chop the beanstalk down before the giant reaches the ground!” Jack said.

  The widow ran inside the house and returned with the axe. Jack reached the ground and took the axe from his mother. In one enormous swing, Jack chopped the beanstalk in two. It teetered over and the giant went with it, falling to his death.

  “Jack, do you have any idea how worried I was about you?” the widow yelled.

  “I’m sorry I made you worry, Mother,” Jack said. “But I promise you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again. Look what I’ve brought home!”

  Jack emptied the bag of gold coins he’d collected at the giant’s castle and showed them to his mother. The widow was so overjoyed, tears came to her eyes. She hugged her son tightly and kissed his cheek.

  “My brave boy!” she said. “You’ve saved us! We’ll never go hungry again!”

  Jack and the widow used the coins to build a new home and started a proper farm that grew more crops than they knew what to do with. They ate three meals a day, and the harp sang them beautiful songs every night before bed.

  The old man’s promise turned out to be true: The magic beans gave Jack all of his heart’s greatest desires. But the true magic was inside Jack. Had he not been so certain about what he wanted out of life, the beans would have never known what to do.

  Jack’s story taught a great lesson to everyone who heard it: When life hands you beans, grow a beanstalk!

  The End

  LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD

  ADAPTED FROM CHARLES PERRAULT

  Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived with her parents in a small village on the edge of the woods. She was known throughout her village as Little Red Riding Hood because of the scarlet cloak she wore around her shoulders. The cloak had been a gift from Little Red’s granny, whom she loved very much.

  One day, Little Red’s mother received a letter from her granny. The sweet old woman was suffering from a terrible cold and couldn’t leave her house, which sat a little ways into the woods. Little Red’s mother packed a basket of goodies and instructed the girl to take it down the path to her grandmother’s house.

  “Be careful while you’re in the woods, Little Red,” her mother said. “Stick to the path, don’t dillydally, and never talk to strangers.”

  Little Red took the basket and skipped down the path to her granny’s house, intending to follow her mother’s instructions. However, the girl had only been in the woods for a matter of moments when a field of wildflowers distracted her.

  “Oh my, what beautiful flowers,” Little Red said. “Surely Mother
wouldn’t mind if I made Granny a bouquet. Flowers help people feel better when they’re ill.”

  She convinced herself a quick stop wouldn’t hurt and had a seat in the field. Little Red picked the prettiest flowers and made herself a flower crown, a flower necklace, and two flower bracelets. By the time she finished, there were no flowers left to make a bouquet for her granny.

  “Oh well,” Little Red said. “I’m sure seeing me will make Granny feel just as good as a bouquet of flowers would.”

  Little Red returned to the path, but it wasn’t long before she was distracted again. This time, a bush with vibrant blueberries caught her eye.

  “Oh my, what delicious-looking berries,” Little Red said. “Surely Mother wouldn’t mind if I picked some for Granny. Sweets always lift someone’s spirits when they’re feeling under the weather.”

  So Little Red stopped to pick her granny some blueberries. She tested one to make sure they were sweet. She tested a second berry to make sure the first berry hadn’t been a fluke. The third and fourth berries were just a little reward she gave herself for being so thoughtful.

  The berries were so delicious, Little Red couldn’t stop eating them. By the time she remembered to pick some for Granny, she had eaten them all.

  “Oh well,” Little Red said. “I’m sure I’ll be as sweet a treat as anything for Granny.”

  Little Red didn’t want to waste any more time, so she decided to stick to the path the rest of the way to her granny’s house. When she was about halfway through the woods, Little Red had an awful fright.Standing on the path in front of her was a ferocious black wolf with big ears and sharp teeth.

  “Hello, little girl,” the wolf growled.

  “Hello,” Little Red said, not wanting to be rude, but then she quickly covered her mouth. “Oops—I promised my mother I wouldn’t talk to strangers.”

 

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